Saviour
by RainbowEve
Summary: Salem Witch Trails with a twist.


_A/N: I've always been interested by the Salem Witch Trails so I thought "Why not ruin the Kuro world with this wonderful event in history." And thus; Saviour was born._

**APRIL, 1692**

A boy ran faster than he ever has in ages. The clicking of his shoes echoing throughout alley ways against cobble-stone. Breathing harshly he gasped for air with every step his small legs took. But he didn't dare stop. Fear of being caught by those he was running from. The fellow villagers he thought trusted him. But proved him wrong in just a matter of days. Resulting in the crisis he was in now.

Everything started early Sunday morning. Just as the boy was awakening. Rubbing sluggish navy blue eyes open. Facing the sunlight that shone through the window on the opposite side of his one roomed home.

Glancing around, he noticed his mother already up and preparing breakfast. The smell of roasting potatoes fresh against his nostrils.

"Look who decided to wake up." She greeted. Her equally blue eyes twinkling against the fire that rose from the stove.

Rachel was always seen as a beautiful women in the village. Many other's jealous of the looks the women owned. Gorgeous blonde hair that was always pinned back into a bun. Hiding the true length from those who wondered. Small waves rippling through the locks. Her eyes, like her son's, were a stunning blue shade, always seen as seductive. Rachel's body was in good shape. Holding a corseted waist, which pressed her average breasts in place. Lovely dresses wrapped around her milky skin hiding all from the public.

Today the mother wore an appropriate olive green dress. A light brown sweater wrapped around her covered shoulders.

"Better hurry and eat. Church will be starting before you know it."

The boy groaned. Shuffling sheets off his small body. Stretching a bit as he stood. Then began the small journey to the round table that sat right beside the stove.

"Can I skip out on today's service, Mother?" He begged. Refusing to look at the women as she served him a plate.

"Seriously Ciel? You know Father would be disappointed if he didn't see his favourite son in God's home."

Stuffing a potato in his mouth, he complained. "He sees me outside of church also. I mean we live in such a small village. I could run into him five times in one day!"

Rachel sighed. Sitting down beside her son. Her eyes showing disappointment. "Why are you trying so hard to get out of today's service. Are you not feeling well?"

Faking a cough, Ciel nodded. Any other day he wouldn't mind attending church but this morning he wasn't feeling it. And he couldn't even reason why. Just didn't feel like going.

"I caught that as fake. But if you're really not up for it, I can make an excuse for you to Father Abberline. Although you know what that means. You'll have to stay inside all day. Wouldn't want to be known as a liar..."

"All right, all right!" Ciel slammed his hand on the table. Mumbling a curse. Then stood up to get dressed. Rachel snickering behind his back. Feeling triumph for winning the argument.

Ciel approached a small pile of clothing. Rummaging through it until he found appropriate clothes for church. Resulting in a simple white button up, black wool pants and thin suspenders. The whole time he dressed, the boy grumbled to himself. Thinking of alternate ways he could skip on today's service, but finally gave up the second Rachel knocked her son upside his head.

"I can hear every word you say, Ciel. Now hurry on and let's go. I'll meet you outside."

Rubbing his head, Ciel replied, "Yes Mother."

...

Rachel had lived in the village of Salem for years. Since discovering the haven at the young age of sixteen. Before then, Rachel lived in a larger town, selling her body to strangers in order to survive since first becoming a teenager. Once falling in love with one certain man she was blinded by stupid emotions and became pregnant. Shattering her life to miniature pieces. Rachel begged and begged the man, asking for him to take her hand in marriage, start a family and live happily. But he didn't want a whore as a wife. Convinced she would he unfaithful. So Rachel fled. Completely heart broken and torn.

She ran unconsciously having no idea where she was going. Never once having ventured outside the city. And that's when she came across Salem. The small village that welcomed her with opened arms. The first person she came across being Father Abberline. He sheltered Rachel and cared for her until she was able to walk on her own feet again. With a newborn baby attached to the hips

Ciel was born in the church. The most precious thing Rachel has ever laid eyes on. So she named him Heaven in French. After the native language her parents spoke. Everyone in Salem adored Ciel. Helped Rachel with anything she needed. Provided clothes, food and eventually her own home.

Over the years, Ciel would grow to be fifteen. Becoming just as handsome as his father was. Owning slate coloured hair that was as soft as silk and ending at the tip of his jawline. Refusing to cut it any longer. His skin was as beautiful as fine China. Smooth and unbothered. The only trait he stole from his mother being her navy eyes. But if you asked Rachel, Ciel's were like gems. Shiny and much larger than Rachel's. Almost doe like.

Church bells rung loudly throughout the village. Vibrating within Ciel's veins. Cursing to himself, he quickly slipped his shoes on and ran outside. Only to come in contact with someone's coated back.

"Oi! Watch it there son."

Backing up some, the boy watched as the body turned around. Dull emotionless eyes meeting scared ones.

"Sorry sir. I was in a rush. A bit late for church."

The man scoffed a laugh. A sound that would bring chills to a women's spine.

"Late for church eh? Who needs such rubbish, I'm sure you won't be missed by anyone."

"Surely you're wrong sir. Father and my own Mother will defiantly notice."

The man raised an eyebrow. Then kneeled down on one knee, reaching Ciel's eye level. "And yet the bells have stopped ringing. Doors close by then don't they?"

Navy blue eyes widened, darting around empty village. Taking notice no one was out but him and the man.

"Say what's your name, son?"

Ignoring him, the small boy asked his own question. "You're not from here are you? I've never seen you before and even if I had and just don't remember you, you would have remembered me. Especially my name."

"Oh really and why's that?"

"B-because all the grown-ups know everyone. Even if the kids don't know them in return. That's how small Salem is."

"Salem...say son, have you heard the rumours lately?"

"Rumours?"

If such a thing were going around town, Ciel would have heard. Being close to Father Abberline who shared just about everything with Ciel. On days neither had a thing to do they'd sit in the church talking until late hours.

"Indeed. Consisting the witches."

Taking another step back, Ciel felt his back run into the wood of his home.

"You're insane sir. W-witches...they...they aren't real."

"And how are you so sure?"

The man, now standing up, made his way towards Ciel. Slowly taking each step with caution. And with each step, Ciel grew nervous. Sweat beginning to drip down his face and breath quickening. As the man, closed in on the younger male, body pressed up against his, Ciel could smell the stench of alcohol strongly hitting his nose.

"I...I think you're drunk sir. P-perhaps you should go on home and rest..."

"Not until you believe these words I'm persuading boy."

Slowly running his eyes up the man's body, Ciel soon regretted his decision. The second his own met the man's, blue eyes widened and a scream crept up the small boy's throat.

Gold. The man's eyes were gold. Pupils looking small against the shining hues they gave off. But that wasn't what scared Ciel. No, it was the images that were shown to him. The burning bodies nails to wooden podiums. Out lines of their tortured bodies black as coal and ashes flew off with the flick of the wind. Mouths twisted into excruciating positions. Stuck as you could tell they were screaming during the process.

What hit his senses next; was the smell. The morbid smell of burning flesh. That and charcoaled blood. A mixture a boy his age shouldn't have been exposed to yet. Gasping loudly, trying to catch his breath as he had been breathing fast due to the situation, Ciel could now feel an acidic rush crawling up his throat. And that's when it happened. Thickened blood and potatoes from that morning's breakfast flown straight onto the man before him. Soaking the wool coat he wore.

"Fuck!"

Another choking up, and Ciel was thrown onto the ground. Hands wrapped around his thin throat, closing in on yet another vomiting that was about to take place.

"You ratchet little boy! You will not live down this little stunt you pulled. I swear to you this! You will never forget this day and never forget my face for after this you will soon wish you had _never_ vomited on me. Just you wait son. Your world is about to come crashing down on you!"

One last gasp for air and Ciel closed his eyes. Fainting from lack of breath. But the images, the ones of burning bodies and most defiantly those golden eyes, stayed in his mind. Haunting the small amount of time he was knocked out.

_I am going to try to update this every week but my schedule can become a bit busy at times. So hopefully, we shall meet again next week. _


End file.
